


What They Don't Say

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Drunk Sex, Episode: s03e02 The Sign of Three, Ficlet, M/M, Top John, Top John Watson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-07 23:53:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a ficlet based on the stag do</p>
            </blockquote>





	What They Don't Say

**Author's Note:**

> At least a bit [reapersuns fault.](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/72542816925/if-either-remembers-in-the-morning-they-never-let)

“I don’t mind,” said John, looking up at Sherlock.

The moment stretched out, John’s hand on Sherlock’s knee. Sherlock took another drink, opening his arms wider. John leaned up and kissed him, seeming to catch Sherlock off guard. Pulling back he laughed and stumbled back for his own chair. He took a long pull, only to find several feet of lanky detective straddling his lap. Dropping his glass to the side and nearly spilling his drink he looked up at the lust blown eyes.

Setting the cup down, he grabbed Sherlock’s hips and rocked up.

Sherlock groaned. It was possibly the most sensual sound he had ever heard. There was a wedding tomorrow, some vague part of his mind spoke up. A hot tongue slipping into his mouth drove that thought far away. He grabbed Sherlock’s hair and toppled them to the floor between their chairs, rutting against him.

“John,” Sherlock groaned, grabbing his arse. “Fuck me,” he begged.

“Anything for you,” breathed John, pulling back long enough to get trousers and pants down and off. Sherlock came up with lube from somewhere and pressed it into his hand.

John went back to kissing him, reveling in the bitter and sweet taste in the man’s mouth as he gasped against the press and stretch of his fingers, legs spread wide. John sat up and grabbed Sherlock’s glass, taking a long swig before slicking his cock and pushing his way inside.

“Yes, please,” moaned Sherlock, wrapping long legs around him.

He moved without grace, just need, his lover tight and hot around him. “Such a fucking waste,” he muttered, stroking Sherlock’s cock as he moved, as always, taking care of the man.

Sherlock arched below him, grabbing the arm of one chair to hold on for dear life. Neither of them heard footsteps on the stairs. Mrs. Hudson quickly turned around and told the client to wait down in her place as the detective was currently indisposed.

John filled him with a groan, collapsing on his chest, Sherlock following a moment later. He was still lying there when Mrs. Hudson knocked on the now closed door.

“Sherlock,” he slurred. “We got company.”

Wrapping arms around John he held him close. “Don’t go.”

John kissed him and slipped out of his arms. “Come on, probably a client this late.” He found his pants and took another drink, throwing Sherlock’s pants at him and finding his way back into his seat. “Just a moment Mrs. Hudson.”

Sherlock had his pants on and they’d moved to the couch by the time the client came in, neither of them talking about what had just transpired.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


End file.
